


agnes

by crud



Series: how to be a human being [7]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Crying, Ferris Wheels, Fluff, Inspired by Music, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, please i almost cried writing this theyre so soft they love each other so much, specifically agnes by glass animals, your honor they are soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27551761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crud/pseuds/crud
Summary: dream had never been fond of ferris wheels.maybe he could learn to like them, now.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound
Series: how to be a human being [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010688
Comments: 30
Kudos: 250
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	agnes

**Author's Note:**

> please THIS ONE WROTE ITSELF NO LIE  
> i actually really like this one so much
> 
> you dont have to read the others in the series, this can be read as a standalone, but they're all the same universe and pretty much the same energy.
> 
> hope you enjoy this !!
> 
> (if dream or george ever say they're uncomfortable with shipping i will take this down)

Dream’s eyes were clenched shut, tight, almost to the point of painfulness, and through the darkness of his eyelids he could see flares of purple and blue and green from the light of the festival below. George’s arm was wrapped around his shoulder, holding him close against the other man, gently rubbing his arm in comfort even as Dream could hear him trying to hold back a laugh.

His eyes stayed closed, though he leaned in closer to George, who let out a hum. Dream turned his face slightly, buried it in the juncture between George’s shoulder and neck, maneuvered himself to sit on George’s lap, their size difference making this all the more difficult and, probably, ridiculous looking. 

He couldn’t bring himself to care, and when he cracked his eyes open briefly to look at George’s face, neither, it seemed, could he. He then snapped his eyes right back open, because such a short view of George just wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t thinking about the ferris wheel, now. Dream was looking at George, leaning back for a better angle, his freckled hands on George’s blue-clad shoulders to balance himself. He was beautiful, Dream believed. He believed this so deeply, felt it resonate in a part of his soul he’d never quite been able to reach before, and he wished he could worship George like he was a deity. 

Their passenger car had a little light on its roof, casting light down on the pair of them, showering George in the purple color it gave off. Flashing red lights from below danced across their little booth every now and then, and green, blue, pink, yellow from all sides, from other rides and performances and games.

If Dream had a single artistic bone in his body, he would draw this. He wished to be a professional artist, who would have a sketchbook or watercolors on him at all times, a photographer with a high quality camera that would capture every detail exactly the way Dream saw it, both, so he could add in everything the camera missed, later. He never wanted to forget this.

George was smiling, brightly, at Dream, a faint red across his cheeks that had nothing to do with the lights, and Dream’s breaths were gone, stolen, lost somewhere between his lungs and the shine of George’s eyes.

“Hey, Dream,” George whispered, suddenly. And Dream, incapable of speech, of breathing, simply nodded his acknowledgment, a soft hum leaving his throat. “I need to ask you something. Can you look at me?” 

Dream nodded, again, and looked down at George, he was always looking at George, there was no one else; he nearly tore his gaze away immediately, caught off guard and overwhelmed from the love he saw flowing out from George’s eyes, but he maintained the contact, his face and neck feeling hot. He wondered if the pink he saw on George’s face was from the glow he was sure emanated from his own.

“Do you know, Dream, just how… captivating you are?” George asked, a smile still on his face, his tone nothing but genuine and loving and maybe a bit teasing, a bit knowing what affect the words would have, and Dream averted his gaze, hunched down just slightly, tried and failed to hold back a soft sound of surprise. 

The amount of blood in his cheeks almost made him feel lightheaded, his entire body warm now despite the chill of the air. “George… how could you say that?” A hand, gentle and calloused from late nights lazily practicing playing guitar despite a lack of true interest, only there to fill the void of silence between their conversations, bathed in blue from LED strips by the bed, and Dream’s eyes were brought up to meet George’s once more. George, who was smiling, a little crooked, a little soft and amused and warm, showered in purple, blue, pink, green, yellow, red-

“How could I say what?” He asked, his tone light but somehow heavy, intent behind it, and Dream heard more than felt himself swallow at the sound of it.

“... that…”

“Oh,” George laughed, eyes dark and shining in the should-be-dark of 11pm “The truth, you mean?” Dream felt his lips tremble as he stared at George, something shaking and fluttering deep in his core, and he could tell the both of them were holding their breaths for– for– something.

They were both holding their breaths for something, staring at each other, one quivering just slightly, the other a solid, grounding presence, purposeful in their movements. Then Dream dove in to kiss George, hard, their lips pressed together, eyes closed, even as he felt George’s free hand move to grip his hip, the one already on Dream’s face stroking his cheek gently— _so gently—_ before reaching up to comb through his hair, and Dream wrapped his arms around George’s neck, pressed ever closer against him, and when they finally pulled back from each other, they didn’t go far.

Their foreheads rest against one another, and they breathed the same air, panting, flushed dark red at the very top of the ferris wheel. 

“Dream…”

“George…”

“I want…” George stopped, and they stared at one another, purple-blue-pink-green-yellow-red, swooped in for another kiss, pulled away quickly. “I want to hold you.”

“Hm?” Dream murmured, the sound more of vague acknowledgement than of true understanding, his eyes slipping shut briefly. A touch on his chin, again, brought him back to attention, and George smiled, rewarding him with a soft press of their lips against one another’s, too quick to even reciprocate.

“Did you hear me, Dream?” George asked, then laughed softly when Dream shook his head. His eyes were dark, something in them that made Dream shiver. “I said, Dream, that I want to hold you.”

“What?"

“I want to hold you, Dream. All the time, so everyone knows you’re mine.”

“George…”

“Dream. I don’t– I’m not… good at this, but… you know I love you. More than anything. You’re all I think about, and–”

“George, what?”

“This feels like a good time, because, Dream, in front of everyone—and I mean _everyone—_ I want to be able to hold you. So, Dream–”

“You’re not–”

“–I can’t really get on one knee at the moment,” he laughed, high and nervous, and pulled a small box from his pocket.

Dream’s eyes shone, softly, beginning to grow wet, bathed in the lights of the festival. “You didn’t…” His voice was teary, and George let out a shaky laugh.

“Maybe I did, so, Dream… will you marry me?”

Silence.

Then Dream let out a sob, buried his face in George’s neck with a faint murmur of “ _Yes, God, yes_ ” and George brought his face back up for the third time, eyes soft as he wiped the tears from his fiancé’s face. 

“I love you, Dream,” George said, genuine and serious and loving and all those things he never let himself be on streams, and they were at the top of a stupid festival ferris wheel that they were both pretty certain was stuck due to how long they’d been up there, and Dream could do nothing else but kiss him.

**Author's Note:**

> hey !! i hope you enjoyed this one !! i honestly didnt mean for the proposal to happen lmfao, but i guess its a fitting ending to the series. i still have 8 more to write but i'm putting them in the order of the songs in the album as i post them and agnes is the last song in the album
> 
> leave a kudos and a comment letting me know what you think ?? 
> 
> my twitter is @patroiocus if you wanna chat :)


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